


The Science of Love

by Anonymous



Category: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley, Frankenstein: A New Musical - Baron/Jackson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dubcon Cuddling, Father-Son Relationship, Fix-It, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Injury Recovery, Minor Injuries, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Victor is gonna gets lots of hugs he doesn't want lol, also if Victor seems frail it's because I like him that way. delicate little bastard man, the Creature is so innocent and affectionate and he loves Victor very much, unfortunately it takes awhile for Victor to stop thinking the Creature is a monster :(
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27432343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Seeing life upon his creation’s face had been horrific. It was no longer his beautiful project, features perfect and unmoving; it had become animated with life that made his very being recoil in disgust at the innate wrongness of it. It had made him sick to see, and when the Creature’s lips had twitched upwards, a clumsy parody of a smile, Victor’s consciousness had fled in terror.Now several hours later he lay on the cold floor, the sunrise splashing reds and golds across every surface in his chamber of folly, and he felt sickened once again, for he realized the monster he had given breath was still here, laying beside him.---The premise is this: Victor faints after bringing the Creature to life and realizing things didn't quite end up how he intended. This means he doesn't burn down the laboratory, and everything turns out different and much less tragic. There are also a lot more cuddles, quasi-parenting, tenderness, and lessons learned on both sides.
Relationships: Victor Frankenstein & Frankenstein's Creature
Comments: 37
Kudos: 81
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

Victor woke sluggishly, aware of nothing at first but the ache in his back and the unwelcome chill in the air. His mind drifted in confusion, not yet fully brightened by the creeping dawn’s rays glinting through his workshop’s window. He felt frayed around the edges, tense and very much unrested by his sleep, for some reason filled with a sense of anxiety he could not comprehend the origin of.

A few moments passed while he attempted to brush away the haze of slumber, and quite suddenly he realized the soreness radiating from his spine was likely caused by the fact he was lying on the floor of his workshop. That was unusual; he had fallen asleep here many times, overtaken by exhaustion as he pored over his research, but he had collapsed only across his desk, never onto the floor. Perhaps it wasn’t sleep that had claimed him, but a fainting spell?

Then, like a shock of frigid water thrown upon him, he remembered.

His project. His creation. He had performed his ultimate experiment, casting lightning into the body he had so carefully formed, and it had set the heart into a slow, feeble beat. He had measured it, felt the pulse beneath his fingers, witnessed the tiny rise and fall of breath within his creation’s chest.

It had faltered, and he had despaired, thinking the body’s death inevitable… but then his creation had somehow rallied, resisting the reaper’s embrace, and opened its eyes to look up into his own.

Seeing life upon his creation’s face had been horrific. It was no longer his beautiful project, features perfect and unmoving; it had become animated with life that made his very being recoil in disgust at the innate wrongness of it. It had made him sick to see, and when the Creature’s lips had twitched upwards, a clumsy parody of a smile, Victor’s consciousness had fled in terror.

Now several hours later he lay on the cold floor, the sunrise splashing reds and golds across every surface in his chamber of folly, and he felt sickened once again, for he realized the monster he had given breath was still here, laying beside him.

It had one arm draped heavily over his side, its massive chest against his back. His skin crawled at the understanding that he was trapped in a hideous embrace, held by the Creature whose steady breathing he could feel whispering over the back of his neck. His stomach threatened to rebel against him, bile rising in his throat. What was it doing? Was it asleep, or was it watching him silently? Why had it lain down and taken him into its arms? Did it hope to keep him a prisoner? He wished desperately to wrench away, to run, to escape the abomination he had inflicted upon the earth, but terror stilled his nearly-trembling muscles. What if movement caused the Creature to anger, to lash out? The beast was enormous by his own design, and it would have strength beyond what he could contest. It would surely kill him.

But he could not stand to suffer its touch another minute! He had to flee!

As if sensing his thoughts, or perhaps only now awakening, the Creature made a quiet, mumbled sound and began to shift. Victor shuddered helplessly as the arm across him moved slowly, twitchily, and one colossal hand passed before his eyes, blotting out the vibrant sunlight for a small moment. When the hand neared his throat, he knew the Creature’s aim to be his death; it planned to strangle him, to crush the life from him mere hours after he had foolishly given life to it.

Though utter fear gripped his heart as tightly as the Creature meant to grip his throat, he resolved that he would not relinquish victory to his foul creation so easily. No, he would fight! Monstrous titan it may be, but Victor would battle it! He would battle it, and he would do so on his feet like David facing the giant Goliath.

Gathering his strength and his valor, shaky though they were, he slammed the point of his elbow backward into the Creature’s ribs. If it truly hurt the thing, he did not know, but it caused it to release a grunt and tuck its arm against its torso, giving Victor the opening to throw himself a distance away, finally escaping the Creature’s grisly grasp. He saw it now, just as ugly and wretched in the light of day as it had been in the darkness of the night before. Its too-bright eyes, contrasting unnaturally with the death-pale skin of its face, were focused on him as he rose to his feet.

His body ached, and his quick actions had tired him more than they should have; he felt weak and unsteady with no small amount of dizziness, his courage and resolution to fight the Creature draining away to the realization that what he truly needed to do was run.

So he ran. Tilting and stumbling like a drunkard he fled toward the door, heart thumping loudly enough to echo in his ears, though not even the beat of his own panicked organ hid the sound of the Creature standing to its feet behind him. Something knocked over, clattering to the floor. The Creature let out a slurred groan in a voice deep as the graves Victor had stolen its body parts from, and the noise made him quake as he threw open the door and rushed to the staircase.

It was there that his attempted departure came to an end, for he made it no farther than halfway down the staircase before his strength failed him. His legs became limp and he collapsed painfully, tumbling down the remaining steps until he rolled to a stop at the bottom, ribs and knees bruised and skull throbbing where it had smacked against the floor.

As he lay panting and aching, he felt the worst of the pain radiating from his left ankle, sharp and hot; a sprain at the least, possibly broken. Dread filled his chest, so much he wondered if he might suffocate beneath it. If nothing else, it would likely be a more pleasant manner of death than the Creature’s unmerciful hands around his throat.

He heard heavy footsteps and the creaking of floorboards above his head and knew the Creature was coming for him. There was nothing he could do; weak and injured as he was, there was no hope that he could evade capture.

Creation would destroy Creator on this day, and deep within himself, Victor acknowledged it to be a fitting punishment for his hubris and defiance of nature’s laws. He could only pray that the monster would be brought down before it claimed any other victim but its maker.

With almost painfully slow steps the Creature descended the staircase, looming over him with its incredible height. It made another unintelligible sound and Victor cringed, thinking desperately and longingly for his loved ones; Father, William, Henry, Elizabeth… he would die miles apart from them, after so long of pushing them aside in favor of his research, ignoring their letters and instead turning his focus only toward the formation of the monster that now stood poised to end his life.

He closed his eyes against tears of sorrow, fear, and regret, and waited for the Creature’s violence to rain upon him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter and would enjoy more of this story, please leave a comment and let me know!


	2. Chapter 2

It stepped over his prone body and, with some effort, lowered itself to its knees in front of him. It tilted its head and stared at him, eyes wide and unblinking. Victor glared back, filled with rage born of despair and bitter failure despite his acceptance of his fate.

“Monster,” he hissed, voice tight with pain and rampant emotion. “Hideous demon! You sicken me! Do as you will, for it cannot cause me more suffering than the mere sight of your vile form!”

There was no indication of understanding in the Creature’s eyes; could it hear? Or was it simply unable to comprehend speech? Victor supposed it mattered not; no mere words would sway the temper of such a foul being anyhow.

The Creature reached for him. Victor shrank away, though he knew it futile. Its hands were cold - though not as cold as they had been before the reanimation procedure, the scientist within Victor couldn’t help but note - and its movements were uncoordinated; gracelessly it pawed at him, nudging his shaking form in silence. It made multiple attempts before eventually succeeding in grasping Victor, dragging him toward it and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, leaving Victor’s face pressed against its broad chest. He writhed and gagged as the Creature’s smell - decay and various chemicals, neither of which he was unused to, but now mixed horribly with the scent of something burnt - filled his nose.

“Disgusting beast, release me or be on with it!” he cried.

The Creature answered with a small groan, jerking its head away. Despite his anger and revulsion, Victor paused. Did the thing dislike his shouting? He banished the question from his mind as soon as it formed. He had no purpose in curiosity anymore; this was not his project, something which he could study. This was the enactor of his quickly-approaching doom.

Just as it had put one arm about his shoulders, the Creature put its other arm around his lower back. With Victor thus secured, it stood to its feet, causing Victor’s injured ankle to knock against the floor as he was lifted. He bit his tongue to guard against any sound of pain, fearing both the appearance of further weakness and the ire of the beast. As the Creature raised itself to full height, Victor found himself dangling, lower body fully unsupported in this unwelcome carry; he undoubtedly would have slipped from the Creature’s arms if they weren’t so tightly fastened around him.

Perhaps it was not strangulation that the Creature had chosen, then, but a crushing of his ribcage to put him to death. Like a constricting serpent, it would intensify its hold on him until his bones snapped and pierced his lungs, leaving him to weakly thrash until the life drained from his body.

It truly was a monster, to arrive at such a grim idea for his demise; a slow and painful execution by manner of an embrace. What a demon he had created!

The Creature turned and began a slow, lumbering ascent up the stairs, back to his workshop. Victor could not fathom what reason it might have to wish to end his life there, rather than here at the bottom of the stairs where he had fallen, or any other location for that matter. Why should such things matter to a devil? Though it was rather poetic, he supposed darkly, to kill him in the very spot where he had raised it to life. Irony of the highest order.

It was a lengthy process for the Creature to climb the steps, seemingly having more difficulty walking up them than it had with walking down. Victor hung in its grip, struggling for breath as the Creature’s arms remained locked tightly around him. When they finally entered his shambles of a workshop, Victor braced himself, knowing his death was imminent. His heart fluttered wildly within his chest, as though it thought it could escape his body and flee to live another day.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the small, unused table against the far wall, piled high with letters he hadn’t read. Messages of love, hope, questions and concerns from all those dear to him; those he had all but forgotten. Fresh tears rose up and his frantic heart throbbed not only in terror, but in anguished remorse.

His death would break their hearts. God, he was a fool.

Suddenly, and much to his surprise, the Creature’s arms slackened and it bent slightly, placing him on his feet; or foot, rather, as he immediately took all weight off his injured ankle. He looked up at it, fear still coursing though his veins, yet now he was filled with utter confusion. Why did it continue to delay in killing him? It could have easily ended his life the night before, while he lay helpless and unconscious, but it had not. It could have killed him at the bottom of the stairs, while he lay helpless and injured, but it had not. And now again it made no move to enact violence, releasing him from its grasp despite having brought him back into the workshop as it had desired. What game did it mean to play? What did it hope to achieve through these seemingly senseless actions?

The Creature returned his gaze, face pulling into that horrible approximation of a smile that made Victor’s spine run cold. It lifted a hand toward him, reaching again for his neck, and on fearful and disgusted instinct Victor slapped the hand away as hard as he could.

An expression came over the Creature’s face, one that Victor would almost be tempted to call confusion. But he did not linger to examine it; instead he turned and hobbled away as quickly as he could, forcing himself to walk on his ankle which ached and spasmed in pain with every step. His lungs burned and his vision wavered and he worried he would crash to the ground and abandon consciousness once more, but with herculean effort he pushed onward, aiming not for the staircase this time but for his surgical tools which lay beside the table he had built his creation upon.

His tools were the closest things he had to a weapon, and though inwardly he admitted to himself it was unlikely he would be able to kill the Creature, he would take up arms, so to speak, and do his damndest to at least wound it.

He nearly made it to the tray where his tools rested before the Creature put its hands on him again, grumbling lowly. Though its grip on his shoulders was not particularly fierce, the Creature easily held him from making any further progress. In spite of his continued fear, Victor seethed with frustration, unable to understand the cursed thing’s motives.

“Wretch!” he snarled, twisting and fighting as much as he was able. “Kill me or begone! Choose, foul demon! I will not suffer your games!”

The Creature made no sound in answer, and for several moments did nothing. After a time, though - during which Victor could nearly fancy the thing had been thinking - it reached out and laid its hand upon the bloodstained sheet that had, mere hours prior, covered the Creature’s lifeless form. It hung from the table still, and the Creature pulled it close.

It then covered Victor with the sheet, draping it lightly over his head.

The sudden obfuscation of his sight, and the overpowering stench of death, were enough to render him senseless once again, and he fell into a darkness he almost welcomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think about it, fainting is just God telling you to stop. Also, Victor, if you'd just wait a couple seconds you'd figure out why the Creature keeps reaching for your neck.
> 
> I hope this chapter was enjoyable, thanks for reading and please leave a comment! Also, I've made a tumblr blog for Frankenstein stuff; I have no idea how much I'll use it, but if you feel like shooting me an ask or something, it's @creaturecuddles!


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